


i'm gonna split us back in two

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [92]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: Harvey is going to kill Bruce someday.





	i'm gonna split us back in two

They're lying in Harvey's gigantic bed, silk sheets and the blankets twisted around Jason's ankles. This is how he's woken up for days, not on someone's couch or Roy's floor, not -

Anyway.

They aren't cuddling, or _married_.

Jason hasn't seen his own apartment in weeks, just keeps borrowing Harvey's t-shirts and breathing in the scent of his cologne.

Harvey pushes Jason's hair out of his eyes, asks, "You gotta work today?"

"No," Jason says. That could change in a minute, they both know.

"Come to the office with me," Harvey says.

"Ugh," Jason says, "Boring."

"I'll fuck you on the desk," Harvey says, with a tug on Jason's hair, and Jason says, "Deal," while he climbs on top of Harvey.

*

"How's your boyfriend?" Roy asks when Jason throws an ounce of weed at him.

"How's _yours_?" Jason counters, and Roy scowls. He packs a bowl, and Jason slumps down on the couch with him. Out of habit he checks out Roy's arm, and tries not to wince at what he sees.

"He's not my boyfriend," Jason says after a while, when he's stoned enough.

"I know, baby," Roy says.

The first time Harvey called him _baby_, he felt a ghostly hand around his neck, squeezing. Now, it makes his dick twitch, makes his mouth water.

"It's different," Jason says. He and Roy never really talked about Bruce except disparagingly, and of course Tim was an awkward subject. "He's not - I can _breathe_ around him, Roy."

"Hm," Roy says. He pulls Jason in to shotgun him a hit, and Jason sighs into him.

"I know how dumb this sounds," Roy says, rubbing the back of Jason's neck. "But be careful, okay?"

"Jesus," Jason says. "_I'm_ not the one banging a cop."

"Yeah," Roy grins. "You always were the smart one."

*

Most times Jason comes by holding a bundle of books, or a dozen grocery bags full of food he's going to cook for them, or one particularly upsetting time with a stray cat he decided Harvey _had_ to save. But the other times -

The other times, Jason shows up at 3AM, covered a mix of his and someone else's blood, eyes fucked up on whiskey and his hands shaking so bad he can barely open the door.

This time Jason scares the living shit out of him, stumbles into the bathroom where Harvey's getting ready for work. Harvey sees him in the mirror first, bruised and banged up like a hungry ghost come home to haunt him.

He looks like Harvey used to, after.

"Jesus, kid," Harvey says, turning around. He's going to get blood on his clean white shirt, and it doesn't matter when he pulls Jason in and Jason just breathes into his chest, exhales something shattering that Harvey has heard from himself a thousand times.

He sets Jason down on the end of the tub and gets to work on cleaning him up, starting with the biggest cut on his forehead, right over his eyebrow. He bends down between Jason's legs to get the cuts on his knuckles, picks broken glass out of them as Jason shudders above him.

He doesn't ask what happens, because it doesn't matter.

"I can stay home," Harvey says, and Jason looks from his hands to him. "Get you some breakfast. You should eat."

"No," Jason says. "I - I just need to sleep."

Harvey knows he needs a lot more than that, they both do, but he nods and helps Jason to his feet. "C'mere, baby," he says and Jason staggers to the bed, strips off his jeans and bloody shirt, and Harvey's gotten used to seeing his scars, could map out most of them by now, but they're startling now, mixed in with the rest of what Jason's done to himself.

Bruce used to clean him up after fights, used to tell him he was an idiot, that if he wanted to be weak all his life he could keep throwing himself in the path of bullets.

"Never bullets," Harvey would say through bloody teeth, and Bruce would push him onto the bed, fuck him until he couldn't feel his bruised knuckles or the cut above his ribs.

He kisses Jason gently, and Jason wraps his hand around his tie, brushes his other hand against the stubble Harvey forgot to take care of this morning.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" Harvey asks, and he expects a sarcastic answer back, but Jason just nods and lays back on the pillows.

"I like this bed," Jason murmurs, eyes already closed.

Harvey is going to kill Bruce someday.

*

Jason doesn't call before he shows up at Dinah's loft, just takes the elevator straight up to the twelfth floor and knocks on the door.

Steph answers, chewing a giant wad of gum and wearing a t-shirt that says _Eat Me_ with a giant chocolate chip cookie underneath it. "What do _you_ want, loser?" she asks, but she steps back to let him in.

Three giant dogs greet him when he steps inside, and Jason loses at least five minutes petting and kissing all of them, assuring them they're good dogs.

"Just wanted to be somewhere without any dicks, mostly," Jason says, grinning.

"I don't blame you," Steph says, crinkling her nose. "Those things are disgusting. I don't know how you people walk around with them."

"Me either," Jason agrees. He spots Donna waiting to say hello a little ways away, and he picks her up and spins her around, breathing in pomegranate shampoo and chemicals from her dark room.

"I missed you," Donna says. She smiles so bright it makes Jason's chest warm up, makes his bones feel less weary. She's wearing earrings in the shape of giant oranges, and sparkly black shorts with a red tank top that does absolutely nothing to hide how stacked she is. "I don't think I've seen you since one of Connor's fights."

"Yeah," Jason says. "How _are_ Gotham's cutest junkie couple?" he asks, and Donna smacks him on the arm.

"You look like shit," Steph pipes up helpfully, but she moves in close to kiss Jason on the cheek. They were good friends for a minute, when Steph tried to join up with Bruce and the rest of them, but three weeks in and Steph told them all she wasn't _crazy_, or about to work under a dictator.

"This is a damn sausage party, anyway," Steph said.

"Thanks, babe," Jason says, returning the kiss. "Who else is around?"

"Dinah's in Star City," Donna says. "Harley is probably out getting _more_ dogs for this place."

"I ordered cats," Jess murmurs from the couch. Jason's only really seen her in passing; everyone says she's shy as hell, but great at surveillance. She's wearing all green and a leaf in her hair, probably from Ivy, and she reaches over to offer Jason a joint.

"I'm good," Jason says, and Jess shrugs. "Calms me down."

"How's your sister?" Jason asks Donna, and she makes a face.

"Not good," Donna says. "That fucking psycho - excuse me," she clears her throat. Donna's a world-class thief, Jason's hardly ever seen her be mean about _anyone_. "There's - some legal trouble going on. We're all trying to keep things low profile right now."

"That sucks," Jason says. He doesn't mention the fact that Dick is going to get them _all_ in trouble soon if he doesn't keep it in his pants. They're all fairly close, but there are some things that stay in the family.

Still, Jason likes it at Dinah's place. He sits on the couch with Donna snuggled up against him and Steph's feet resting in his lap. Kori makes an appearance an hour or so later, and like Dick she has that perpetual smell of smoke and gasoline, of something about to explode. She and Donna talk each other's ear off, eating up speed like candy, and even though they're all a bunch of klepto firebug murderous nuts around here, it's -

It's different. It's easier. He gets stoned with Jess and watches Kori braid her long long hair, mesmerized by nine hundred different shades of red and orange and gold, and Harley comes home and drops a puppy in his lap, Ivy protesting the whole time that they live in the _city_, and who's going to watch all these dogs, and -

"What, like I've got a full time job I can't take care of a couple dogs?" Harley protests. The puppy nips at Jason's hand, and Jason tells her she's a good dog.

"Harley," Ivy tries to reason.

"Who needs sleep anyway?" Harley asks, and Donna passes her a tray of blow with a giggle.

"We missed you," Donna tells him once the puppy's asleep in his arms. Steph, in a weird display of honesty, says, "Yeah, we do."

"Hell," Jason says. "I'm switching teams."

He knows it's not true, of course. Bruce would -

Well, at least he used to think -

He leaves the loft with three new plants from Ivy and complicated instructions on how not to kill them, plus the best weed in town also grown by her. He leaves with a lighter heart, but not a less conflicted one.

*

When Jason steps into Harvey's apartment - he has a _key_ now - Bruce is sitting in the armchair, Harvey nearby with a scotch in his hand. Jason flicks his eyes to Harvey in mild panic, and Bruce says, "Hello, Jason."

Not _Jay_, not -

"Hey," Jason breathes out. "What are you doing here?

He's wearing a suit, which means he's working, but Jason sees the bump of a holster around his ankle. Bruce told him once to always be careful.

He hasn't been.

"Just checking on my business," Bruce says, and he _says_ it one way, but he _means_ -

Bruce stands up and steps toward him, and Jason takes a step back.

"Bruce," Harvey says. "Maybe you should go."

He turns and sneers at Harvey, something mean and ugly, before turning back to Jason. His eyes soften then, and Jason almost falls for it. "You don't belong here, Jay," he says, and Jason goes cold.

"You can go," Jason says. He doesn't wait, just retreats to the bedroom and waits for the murmur of voices to stop, for the sound of locks turning and the door closing.

Harvey steps into the bedroom a minute later, still in his suit but with his shoes off, tie undone. Jason watches him from where he sits at the edge of the bed. He feels like a kid about to get yelled at, like the bad guy.

What Harvey says is, "I'm sorry."

He takes a careful step toward Jason, and Jason lets him touch his shoulder, the back of his neck, lets him tilt his face up to look at him. Harvey looks like a shadow sometimes, like some kind of vibrancy that used to be there, but right now Jason can see what was supposed to be there, before he went to prison.

"I should have told you he was here," Harvey says. "I know things aren't… great right now."

Jason snorts, but says, "You don't gotta apologize, okay. He's your best friend. And he and I…" Jason shrugs. "He's still my boss."

"Yeah," Harvey says. He runs his hand through Jason's hair, and Jason leans in to it. Until Harvey, he didn't realize how fucked up he really was, how much he _needed_ to be touched, to be looked at like Harvey looks at him these days.

"He told me I was kidding myself," Harvey says. He looks away. "He said I was an idiot if I thought - if I thought this - whatever it is -"

Jason lets out a breath. "You're not."

Harvey looks back at him. "Or, maybe we both are," Jason says. "I just know that when you touch me, I feel like -"

"Yeah," Harvey says. "I know." He bends down, cups Jason's face with both giant hands, and kisses him. It's not exactly possessive, it's not exactly _passion_, whatever the fuck that might look like, but it makes Jason remember how to breathe again, for a minute.

He drags Harvey onto the bed with him, not even feeling it when Harvey's chin crashes against his cheek, and Harvey rolls them over, pulls Jason on top of him and tugs at Jason's t-shirt, another one Jason stole out of the back of his closet. Jason throws it on the ground, and Harvey grips his sides as Jason grinds down on him, stares down at Harvey with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Baby," Harvey says. "Come on, get these off."

Jason moves off the bed long enough to strip his clothes off, long enough for Harvey to do the same, but when he dives back on top of Harvey, Harvey's still holding his tie between both his hands.

"Will you let me?" Harvey asks, and Jason nods, but says, "You know I can get out of any knot in about thirty seconds, right?"

"I know," Harvey says, easing Jason onto his stomach. "It's _symbolic_."

Jason rolls his eyes, but he stays still while Harvey ties his hands behind his back, feels a shiver run down his spine as Harvey sucks a bruise into the back of his neck, murmurs, "On your knees, Jay."

He gets to his knees, and Harvey's blunt nails carve a path down his back, stopping at his tied up hands. "You look good like this," Harvey says. "I should get your legs next time, too, get you all trussed up for me."

Jason doesn't _whine_, but his dick already aches. He can't see Harvey without twisting his head all wrong, and it makes him all the more needy, desperate.

"You're good, Jay," Harvey says. He runs a dry finger over Jason's ass. "I want you to know. I want to show you. Do you want that?"

"Yeah," Jason chokes out.

He knows Harvey smiles, feels it against his ass cheek before Harvey leans in to lap at his hole, not penetrating, just - there and Jason shudders, squirms, hears himself _shouting_ as Harvey fucks his tongue into him, spit-drenching him.

"Fuck me," Jason says, and this time it's a beg, it's an offer to do _anything_.

"Please, please," Jason asks, and Harvey sits up, touches the back of Jason's head. "You don't have to ask. Not anymore, okay?"

Jason doesn't realize he's shaking until he nods, and Harvey holds him still, reaches down to slip his fingers round Jason's cock. "I got you," Harvey says, and he does. Jason can't see him, but he hears Harvey slicking himself up and then he slides in, slow and easy, and Jason bites down on another _please_.

This isn't how it usually goes, not for him, and he's _dying_.

He fucks back against Harvey, or tries to, and Harvey shushes him, holds him still. "Easy, baby," Harvey says, and Jason _growls_, thinks of the cuts across his chest, the matches Dick put out on his arm, the permanent scars from Bruce he can't _see_ but knows are there.

The pace picks up gradually, until Jason takes deep, gasping breaths, until his hands twitch with needing to _touch_, until he cranes his head back to _see_ and Harvey's sweating, panting, gray flecks of hair falling over his forehead and his eyes on him, on Jason, and -

He comes with a noise he's never heard before, and holds on as Harvey keeps going, keeps fucking, gripping Jason's hips hard enough to break and then he grabs Jason up, his whole arm around Jason's neck and Jason has never felt so safe.

After, they order Chinese, get stoned and watch the news, and neither one of them says anything else about Bruce.

*

Jason waits until he knows Bruce is the only one left in the manor. There's no sneaking up on him, but he doesn't tell him he's coming, either.

He finds Bruce in his office, whiskey in one hand and a stack of paperwork in the other.

"You should really update your security," Jason tries. "Someone could rob you."

"It's been attempted," Bruce agrees. He doesn't move, and neither does Jason. "What can I do for you, Jay?" Bruce asks, and Jason thinks of the thousands of times he's stood outside this office waiting for Bruce to get off the phone with Harvey, the days spent curled in Bruce's lap as he barked out orders to everyone, the hours bent over this same oak desk.

"I'm not coming back," Jason says, and Bruce pauses in whatever bullshit note he's writing and stares at him.

"Is that so," Bruce says.

"I'll do whatever jobs you need done," Jason says. "I owe you that. But I'm not -" he takes a breath, shuddering and exactly as nervous as he didn't want to be. "I'm staying where I am."

"Jay," Bruce says then, and just that word, as Bruce comes around the desk towards him, hits him in the gut. 

"Whatever it is," Bruce says, "whatever you _need_..." And Jason hasn't cried since his mom died, but something inside him wants to sob.

He doesn't, can't, answer, but it only brings Bruce closer, until he's touching Jason's shoulders with his huge, scarred hands that always smell like gunpowder no matter what.

"Talk to me," Bruce says, and Jason can barely _look_ at him, blue eyes and dark stubble, hair flecked with the same grey as Harvey's.

"Just say it," Bruce says, "And I'll do it."

That probably would've worked months ago, would've had Jason crawling back into Bruce's bed cum-drunk and satisfied. But now.

Now, Bruce touches his cheek, leans down and tries to draw him in, but Jason wriggles free.

"No," Jason says, and Bruce stares at him. "Bruce, no."

"I'll send him away," Bruce says. There's a plea in his voice Jason's never heard, and the idiot in him wants to give in, wants to climb on the desk like nothing's wrong. "Just tell me, and I'll -" Bruce starts, and Jason stops him with a hand on his arm.

"The thing is," Jason says, "I should never have had to ask."

Bruce looks - Bruce looks _hurt_, and some part of Jason doesn't care; some part just thinks _good_. Bruce has had everything for years, every part of Jason besides, and he's the one -

"You don't know Harvey," Bruce says to his back, his voice a growl again. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yeah, well," Jason says. "I never did."


End file.
